Graduation was long and arduous. We couldn't have picked a better day to wear long, black robes under a hot May sun. I can't believe how tired I still am from that day. It may be because I came home and unpacked nearly everything I had acrued at school for the past year. That was probably a little un-necessary. I tend to un-pack and organize when I'm anxiety-ridden. Its the only thing I know how to control, when suddenly everything I've known for so long is suddenly gone. Its so surreal that I'm actually done with college. No more homework. No more academia. I think I'm going to miss all the debates and opportunities to meet so many different people. It was especially cool to meet people from other countries. Its a little difficult to do that in any old town in Vermont.
The really shitty thing about graduation day, was not partying with anybody. Its weird, because my friend Meghan said I should come to the Hippy house after graduation. This was like a week before. I figured we'd meet up after and I could follow her to this infamous dungeon of keggers and drug-inducement. However, after graduation I could not find her and she wouldn't answer her cell phone. I should've known better. She'd always been flakey like that. Maybe she just though I was fucking weird, but couldn't be mean to me. Sometimes I wonder. Needless to say, I went home and hung out by myself, drinking my parent's wine. Oh well. Fuck everybody. Well except Cherie. She's cool enough to rent a hotel room and eat chocolate mixed with shrooms. Thats hardcore.
So what next? I don't know. I can only apply for so many jobs at a time. It gets boring real fast. I've been keeping in touch with the Vermont Freedom to Marry Task Force quite a bit, but its taking them a long time to get stuff together. I've gotten $300 so far for graduation and I just picked up my paycheck today for $190. Yeah I'm gonna die real soon if I don't get some sufficient income. Oh yeah, I no longer have health insurance because I live in a country where its political punditry thinks the welfare of its people isn't as important as waging illegal wars against sovereign nations.
My parents did, however, bring me to the Long Trail Brewery today for lunch. I had the "hippy" burger for lunch. It was decent, but the Belgian White Wheat Ale was the best part. I also got to tour the factory and see how they mix all that malt, hops, water and shit. That was some dank ass chronic motherfucker.
A kid named Pete is coming over to show me his guitar skills. I hope it goes well.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Climax
Today Weight of the World had a practice with a new guitarist named Troy. I'm so glad that we've been able to add him to our lineup. Troy hasn't played with a band since he played bass for They Fear The Reclaim. I got their 7" on eBay a while ago. Its extremely abrasive. I would recommend picking it up if you find it anywhere.
Anyway, the practice went over well. Bruce and I taught him four songs and he picked them up really quick. He's also quite versatile for bass being his forte. Troy has a very thrash-esque approach to playing guitar, that adds a new type of aggression to my melodic brand of hardcore and punk. I'm really excited.
Around three, I met up with produced/songwriter Phil Henry to continue mixing the Weight of the World demo. We go three good mixes down, but we need to re-record some bass. My advice is to never tune your instrument to an online tuner. They're not reliable.
At six, I met up with my parents for the Senior's family picnic. It sucked. The veggie burgers were burnt and Jeremiah just had to sit with us. My mom overheard hi saying his parents weren't showing up, so she invited him to sit down. Little did she know, that he's immensely annoying and tries way to hard to be everybody's friend.
Next, all graduating seniors had graduation rehearsal at seven. Like Jeremiah, it was also immensely annoying and antagonizing. All the formalities and traditions mean absolutely nothing to me. I guess it might to my family though.
Now, I'm slightly drunk. I also don't feel like thinking anymore. No more writing. The end of the world starts tomorrow, with my entry into the real world.
Anyway, the practice went over well. Bruce and I taught him four songs and he picked them up really quick. He's also quite versatile for bass being his forte. Troy has a very thrash-esque approach to playing guitar, that adds a new type of aggression to my melodic brand of hardcore and punk. I'm really excited.
Around three, I met up with produced/songwriter Phil Henry to continue mixing the Weight of the World demo. We go three good mixes down, but we need to re-record some bass. My advice is to never tune your instrument to an online tuner. They're not reliable.
At six, I met up with my parents for the Senior's family picnic. It sucked. The veggie burgers were burnt and Jeremiah just had to sit with us. My mom overheard hi saying his parents weren't showing up, so she invited him to sit down. Little did she know, that he's immensely annoying and tries way to hard to be everybody's friend.
Next, all graduating seniors had graduation rehearsal at seven. Like Jeremiah, it was also immensely annoying and antagonizing. All the formalities and traditions mean absolutely nothing to me. I guess it might to my family though.
Now, I'm slightly drunk. I also don't feel like thinking anymore. No more writing. The end of the world starts tomorrow, with my entry into the real world.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Fuck Bears
Today I had one of my breakdowns. It tends to happen if I forget to take my medicine for more than a couple of days. Its not that I don't intend on taking my medicine, I'm just always on the go and its easy to forget to pop a couple of white capsules in your mouth.
First, I realized Weight of the World had to drop off the May 23rd show at 242 main. Bruce got promoted at work, because one of the line-cooks got fired, so by default he takes place. Only bad part, is that now he has to work friday or they will be seriously screwed. I really wish employers had more respect for their employee's various activities. This show has been booked for more than a few weeks and I just feel really let down when you're expected to just drop your activities to fulfill capitalistic motives. On a more positive note, I asked Troy to play guitar for the band and he accepted. Troy is the boyfriend of my co-worker Dianna. I'm glad he accepted. He hasn't had a music project going for years now.
Next, it gets a little weird. For any female readers out there, you may find this disconcerting. Basically, when summer comes around, there are certain things that are titilating to men when we see how women dress. Its really hard not to stare at girls that we find attractive when they put on that ventilated summer dress. I can't help it. I hope its not just me, because I don't want to be seen as a sexual predator. However, I think my close friends who read this will know that I would never violate any woman in a sexual way. To be completely honest, the scantly-clad attire of women in the summer months doesn't make me want to reach out for any kind of "eye candy." It just makes me wonder what it would be like to be intimate with a girl that I find attractive. So thats all it is really. Just fantasy. Fantasies are okay I think, as long as it ends there.
On the other hand, I really do contemplate my chances of getting with any women anymore. It seems like I've become "the gay best friend who isn't actually gay." Thats the best way I can describe it. As much as I appreciate the friendship of my female comrades, I just wish for once I could have the opportunity to pursue a relationship or maybe just experiment? People say that college is supposed to be the best four years of your life. I don't think people mean the academia part of it when they say that. I certainly got my academic part worth it, but I don't feel like I really got out there socially. Sometimes I regret it, sometimes I just think thats the person I'm meant to be. But I also don't believe in destiny, so I wonder if I could have made different decisions. Yet again, maybe I wouldn't have excelled academically like I did, had I carped over girls so much.
It seemed like everybody finished their finals today. There were so many cars and parents packing up and hitting the road. Not me. I'm here until saturday, just shooting the fat with whomever and contemplating my demise into true adulthood. Lets face it. College is fake reality. Your life is on hold, but you do have a lot of freedoms. When I say on hold, I mean devoid of financial obligations and silly social calamities. Thats why college kids party so much, because if you partied that much in real life you would be an alcoholic. So this is the time to truly get fucked up and enjoy it for what its worth.
Well Leonel is here and we're talking a lot, so peace.
First, I realized Weight of the World had to drop off the May 23rd show at 242 main. Bruce got promoted at work, because one of the line-cooks got fired, so by default he takes place. Only bad part, is that now he has to work friday or they will be seriously screwed. I really wish employers had more respect for their employee's various activities. This show has been booked for more than a few weeks and I just feel really let down when you're expected to just drop your activities to fulfill capitalistic motives. On a more positive note, I asked Troy to play guitar for the band and he accepted. Troy is the boyfriend of my co-worker Dianna. I'm glad he accepted. He hasn't had a music project going for years now.
Next, it gets a little weird. For any female readers out there, you may find this disconcerting. Basically, when summer comes around, there are certain things that are titilating to men when we see how women dress. Its really hard not to stare at girls that we find attractive when they put on that ventilated summer dress. I can't help it. I hope its not just me, because I don't want to be seen as a sexual predator. However, I think my close friends who read this will know that I would never violate any woman in a sexual way. To be completely honest, the scantly-clad attire of women in the summer months doesn't make me want to reach out for any kind of "eye candy." It just makes me wonder what it would be like to be intimate with a girl that I find attractive. So thats all it is really. Just fantasy. Fantasies are okay I think, as long as it ends there.
On the other hand, I really do contemplate my chances of getting with any women anymore. It seems like I've become "the gay best friend who isn't actually gay." Thats the best way I can describe it. As much as I appreciate the friendship of my female comrades, I just wish for once I could have the opportunity to pursue a relationship or maybe just experiment? People say that college is supposed to be the best four years of your life. I don't think people mean the academia part of it when they say that. I certainly got my academic part worth it, but I don't feel like I really got out there socially. Sometimes I regret it, sometimes I just think thats the person I'm meant to be. But I also don't believe in destiny, so I wonder if I could have made different decisions. Yet again, maybe I wouldn't have excelled academically like I did, had I carped over girls so much.
It seemed like everybody finished their finals today. There were so many cars and parents packing up and hitting the road. Not me. I'm here until saturday, just shooting the fat with whomever and contemplating my demise into true adulthood. Lets face it. College is fake reality. Your life is on hold, but you do have a lot of freedoms. When I say on hold, I mean devoid of financial obligations and silly social calamities. Thats why college kids party so much, because if you partied that much in real life you would be an alcoholic. So this is the time to truly get fucked up and enjoy it for what its worth.
Well Leonel is here and we're talking a lot, so peace.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Reparations
Today I fell for a practical joke. As I was walking into the dining hall, I noticed a one dollar bill sitting nicely in front of the door, beckoning me towards it. Like anybody, I was compelled to pick it up. Little did I know that it was attached a to fishing line, where some kid was hiding behind a bush only ten feet away preying on my ever move. Instantaneously, the dollar bill was shanked away from me. Worse off, everybody in the parking lot surrounding the entrance was apparently watching my inevitable demise. Everybody laughed. Myself included. Well I tried to laugh it off, but I couldn't help but feel really fucking stupid.
Yesterday I had the chance to hang out with my old roommate Pookie. His name is really Chris Lowe, but he became Pookie on this campus. He's a pretty big dude and he was notorious for chugging vodka like water and caravaning around campus in his Pope outfit. It was hilarious. Theres also a video of him somehwere eating a pack of clove cigarrettes. In our old room, he also made a nicely stacked wall of Dr. Pepper soda cans. It literally went from the floor up to the ceiling. I think after a while, he actually started to glue them to the wall to keep the whole thing from crashing down. Well eventually in a drunken haze, Pookie came crashing through the door one night and straight into the wall of soda cans. And just like that, the months of delicately placed cans cam crashing down in a shower of aluminum and bits of glue. Its all I think of when I think of Pookie. So yesterday we hung out with Nick Korda in the outing club room for hours just shooting the shit. It felt good to talk with an old friend and not have any worries for once. I guess his new band is doing really well and they're trying to get signed. I hope they do, because I know Pookie would prefer to not work in that shitty supermarket as much as he does.
I also had my last radio show ever as a student this past Sunday. I don't know why I didn't mentio it in an earlier post. I'm going to miss WIUV. I said some pretty vulgar and colorful things on air. I wonder if the FCC will ever truly know. I also played lots of annoying music that would definitely piss off all the boneheaded frat boys on campus and their airhead counterparts with orange-tanned skin and fake blonde hair. Seriously girls. Its not attractive to look like an oompa loompa. Its fucking fake and it ruins your personality, as if you had one anyways. Anyways, the radio shows are over. I'm going to miss stealing shit from that place.
I have to go talk about my final paper in a hald hour. The paper was for a class called "Three Auteurs," where we analyzed films by Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Altman and Stanley Kubrick. The Kubrick films were especially a treat. Those never get old. I wrote my final paper on Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey." For some reason, we didn't watch that one in class (I think it has something to do with being nearly three hours long). Anyways, I got about eight pages on that sucker. I hope Professor Vestrich liked it. I liked writing it.
It doesn't seem like a lot of my friends are into reading blogs or my blog for that matter, with the exception of Jess. She seems rather faithful so far to reading it. Hopefully I can get some family members interested. Maybe I should start writing about them more. That would garner some interest.
I'm seriously becomig obcessed with 88 Fingers Louie. Its a shame they broke up. I seem to just get into bands after they've already broken up. Its the story of my life.
Well I got to go print out my paper on "2001."
Yesterday I had the chance to hang out with my old roommate Pookie. His name is really Chris Lowe, but he became Pookie on this campus. He's a pretty big dude and he was notorious for chugging vodka like water and caravaning around campus in his Pope outfit. It was hilarious. Theres also a video of him somehwere eating a pack of clove cigarrettes. In our old room, he also made a nicely stacked wall of Dr. Pepper soda cans. It literally went from the floor up to the ceiling. I think after a while, he actually started to glue them to the wall to keep the whole thing from crashing down. Well eventually in a drunken haze, Pookie came crashing through the door one night and straight into the wall of soda cans. And just like that, the months of delicately placed cans cam crashing down in a shower of aluminum and bits of glue. Its all I think of when I think of Pookie. So yesterday we hung out with Nick Korda in the outing club room for hours just shooting the shit. It felt good to talk with an old friend and not have any worries for once. I guess his new band is doing really well and they're trying to get signed. I hope they do, because I know Pookie would prefer to not work in that shitty supermarket as much as he does.
I also had my last radio show ever as a student this past Sunday. I don't know why I didn't mentio it in an earlier post. I'm going to miss WIUV. I said some pretty vulgar and colorful things on air. I wonder if the FCC will ever truly know. I also played lots of annoying music that would definitely piss off all the boneheaded frat boys on campus and their airhead counterparts with orange-tanned skin and fake blonde hair. Seriously girls. Its not attractive to look like an oompa loompa. Its fucking fake and it ruins your personality, as if you had one anyways. Anyways, the radio shows are over. I'm going to miss stealing shit from that place.
I have to go talk about my final paper in a hald hour. The paper was for a class called "Three Auteurs," where we analyzed films by Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Altman and Stanley Kubrick. The Kubrick films were especially a treat. Those never get old. I wrote my final paper on Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey." For some reason, we didn't watch that one in class (I think it has something to do with being nearly three hours long). Anyways, I got about eight pages on that sucker. I hope Professor Vestrich liked it. I liked writing it.
It doesn't seem like a lot of my friends are into reading blogs or my blog for that matter, with the exception of Jess. She seems rather faithful so far to reading it. Hopefully I can get some family members interested. Maybe I should start writing about them more. That would garner some interest.
I'm seriously becomig obcessed with 88 Fingers Louie. Its a shame they broke up. I seem to just get into bands after they've already broken up. Its the story of my life.
Well I got to go print out my paper on "2001."
Monday, May 12, 2008
We All Fall Down
I just read an Associated Press article about the recenet earthquake in China. Over 8,500 people are dead now. When the first article broke yesterday, they said there were over 4,000 deaths and when I woke up this morning it said over 7,500 deaths. It seems like the toll keeps climbing. First, the cyclone in Myannmar that has killed over 40,000 and left millions homeless and now this. It seems like the world is falling apart around me. I wouldn't know how it feels to live in a geologically active area. There was an earthquake in New England back in 2003, but it only lasted ten seconds. I remember what it felt like. I was on vacation in Rhode Island with my family and we were in a hotel room in a ten-story building. I actually felt the floor beneath sway a bit. It was the most visceral feeling I've ever felt. I actually thought someone ran into the building with eight-wheel truck. I guess I don't know an earthquake when its coming. I'm very lucky for that. The earthquake in China was a 7.8 category on the Rictor Scale. The one in New England in 2003 barely tipped the scale.
On another depressing note, the hypocrisy of John McCain continues. This radical Christian zealot has just announced he opposes the Fair Pay Act that was just introduced to Congress. What a piece of shit. The legislation was drafted to countervail wage discrimination in the workplace towards women. Its no surprise and extremely disconcerting to know that woman get paid much less than men who obtain the same position and are parallel in their educational attainment. Its sickening to know that someone with so-called "moral values" would be objected to such progressive notions of soicetal equity. In a way, its also no surprise at al. McCain and his pundits cling to the ideological sentiment of strict-father mentality. This mean that the male is the head of the household, the sole breadwinner the being of supreme intelligence. Yeah sorry dude, but its 2008. Stop being a sexist bastard. So in McCain's view, legislation like this would be a threat to his pre-conceived perception of reality. I think I'm going to write about this for my next Rebuttal article, because its really pissing me off.
TODAY'S GRIPE : COVER LETTERS
Cover letters are redundant comprehensive documents of brown-nosing and plain bullshit. Its not that I don't care about getting any positon at any one particular job, its just this professional format for applying that really pulls at my hair. The career development director at school is right when she says that the cover letter entices the employer to look at the rest of your resume, but its also full of the monotonous humdrum of kid who is sick of looking for a job. All "adults" will tell me to get over it and just accept it. You know what. I wasn't raised to blindly accept anything. Its time I start writing my cover letters with a bit of my own zeal.
So I have no written finals for finals week. Thats right. I'm just sitting around for the next five days trying to find some sort of epiphany as to why I put myself into perpetual debt for this arbitray communications degree. Yeah I'm cynicaly, but I've seen someone working at Wal-Mart who graduated with the same degree. Then again, its what you make of it. I think its just easier to be cynical rather than positive. But to be completely honest, I got my fucking money's worth out of this school, besides the fact that I don't think any one deserves to be put into debt just because they want to attain additional knowledge.
The speak at commencement is Senator Bernie Sanders. Thats strange considering I just applied to work in his Burlington office (N. Vermont). I was just telling a friend how funny it would be if I got up to get my diploma and ask him if he got my fax. Then we could have an interview right there. I could turn to the crowd and ask them if they think I'm worthy. If the crowd cheers, he'll have to hire me. Sounds like a plan.
I don't know what I'm going to do today, besides hand in a final paper. Maybe I'll find out when I get to mix the rest of my songs at Westside studios.
Life is ambiguous.
On another depressing note, the hypocrisy of John McCain continues. This radical Christian zealot has just announced he opposes the Fair Pay Act that was just introduced to Congress. What a piece of shit. The legislation was drafted to countervail wage discrimination in the workplace towards women. Its no surprise and extremely disconcerting to know that woman get paid much less than men who obtain the same position and are parallel in their educational attainment. Its sickening to know that someone with so-called "moral values" would be objected to such progressive notions of soicetal equity. In a way, its also no surprise at al. McCain and his pundits cling to the ideological sentiment of strict-father mentality. This mean that the male is the head of the household, the sole breadwinner the being of supreme intelligence. Yeah sorry dude, but its 2008. Stop being a sexist bastard. So in McCain's view, legislation like this would be a threat to his pre-conceived perception of reality. I think I'm going to write about this for my next Rebuttal article, because its really pissing me off.
TODAY'S GRIPE : COVER LETTERS
Cover letters are redundant comprehensive documents of brown-nosing and plain bullshit. Its not that I don't care about getting any positon at any one particular job, its just this professional format for applying that really pulls at my hair. The career development director at school is right when she says that the cover letter entices the employer to look at the rest of your resume, but its also full of the monotonous humdrum of kid who is sick of looking for a job. All "adults" will tell me to get over it and just accept it. You know what. I wasn't raised to blindly accept anything. Its time I start writing my cover letters with a bit of my own zeal.
So I have no written finals for finals week. Thats right. I'm just sitting around for the next five days trying to find some sort of epiphany as to why I put myself into perpetual debt for this arbitray communications degree. Yeah I'm cynicaly, but I've seen someone working at Wal-Mart who graduated with the same degree. Then again, its what you make of it. I think its just easier to be cynical rather than positive. But to be completely honest, I got my fucking money's worth out of this school, besides the fact that I don't think any one deserves to be put into debt just because they want to attain additional knowledge.
The speak at commencement is Senator Bernie Sanders. Thats strange considering I just applied to work in his Burlington office (N. Vermont). I was just telling a friend how funny it would be if I got up to get my diploma and ask him if he got my fax. Then we could have an interview right there. I could turn to the crowd and ask them if they think I'm worthy. If the crowd cheers, he'll have to hire me. Sounds like a plan.
I don't know what I'm going to do today, besides hand in a final paper. Maybe I'll find out when I get to mix the rest of my songs at Westside studios.
Life is ambiguous.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Some may call what I did last night drunken belligerency. I call it a good time. Then again, what constitutes an intoxicated night of fun? First off, you have to get drunk by spending as little money as possible. In my case, this was $8. I went out and bought a six-pack of Long Trail Doublebag (if you don't live in Vermont, basically all you need to know is that you get really fucked up from this brew). This exotic blend of malt and wheat is 8% percent alcohol. Thats a lot for beer. So if you want to get really drunk from Doublebag all you have to do is drink it all really fast and then bum shots of cheap vodka off people you just met and you're good to go for the night.
Dorm life isn't all about glorious drunken escapades. For those of you who have not been inundated with its various facets, you're not missing out. First off, lets examin the community bathroom. This is a cesspool of microorganisms and bodily fluids. Never touch anything on a toilet with your hand. Thats just asking for crabs. I took a picture of the toilet once on my floor and posted it on myspace. Apparently the picture violated their terms of agreement. Thats how nasty community bathrooms are. There is always some random substance that you've never seen before and it always looks like excrement from some distant planet. My biggest gripe is the fact the men can't seem to pee into the toilet. Apparently its easier to pee on it (or defecate.....depends on your inebriated state). My favorite occurence happens when I go to take a shower and find pasta sitting neatly piled on the drain. Who the fuck does that? And how can I forget that orange puke in the sink. That place was uninhabitable for nearly a week (like it ever was inhabitable).
At one point or another, the stairwells of your building will smell like a dumpster and will probably be covered in DNA. This is more common the older your dorm is. There is some psychological implication to treat your dorm worse the older it is. I guess people feel less concerned about property when its already in a state of decay. I can see that logic. And if you lucky enough to have an elevator, it will soon be penetrated by cigarettes, rotten apples and used condoms. You may also find a half full can of keystone light placed delicately above the movable ceiling, as well as a half-eaten bagel.
The kitchen. Oh the kitchen. Don't cook there. Its not good for your health. I try not to even breathe in that capsule of filth. Unless you're okay with rotten bacon wedged into the drain or erratic spillage in every conceivable crack and crevice, I would just go out to a diner. It is also common to see the microwave in a perpetual state of submersion in the various substances of easy mac, ramen noodles or instant oatmeals. The spills sit long enough to get hard. The garbage can is also usually overflowing with beer cans and their carboard containers. You can usually find a piece of clothing covered in shit too. But don't stare at the trash too long. It could damage your cornea.
Today is mother's day. My dad says I need to come over and have some ice-cream cake. Sounds like a plan. No more dorm talk. It makes me sick to my stomache and eventually my bowels.
Oh yeah. Listen to Bane.
Dorm life isn't all about glorious drunken escapades. For those of you who have not been inundated with its various facets, you're not missing out. First off, lets examin the community bathroom. This is a cesspool of microorganisms and bodily fluids. Never touch anything on a toilet with your hand. Thats just asking for crabs. I took a picture of the toilet once on my floor and posted it on myspace. Apparently the picture violated their terms of agreement. Thats how nasty community bathrooms are. There is always some random substance that you've never seen before and it always looks like excrement from some distant planet. My biggest gripe is the fact the men can't seem to pee into the toilet. Apparently its easier to pee on it (or defecate.....depends on your inebriated state). My favorite occurence happens when I go to take a shower and find pasta sitting neatly piled on the drain. Who the fuck does that? And how can I forget that orange puke in the sink. That place was uninhabitable for nearly a week (like it ever was inhabitable).
At one point or another, the stairwells of your building will smell like a dumpster and will probably be covered in DNA. This is more common the older your dorm is. There is some psychological implication to treat your dorm worse the older it is. I guess people feel less concerned about property when its already in a state of decay. I can see that logic. And if you lucky enough to have an elevator, it will soon be penetrated by cigarettes, rotten apples and used condoms. You may also find a half full can of keystone light placed delicately above the movable ceiling, as well as a half-eaten bagel.
The kitchen. Oh the kitchen. Don't cook there. Its not good for your health. I try not to even breathe in that capsule of filth. Unless you're okay with rotten bacon wedged into the drain or erratic spillage in every conceivable crack and crevice, I would just go out to a diner. It is also common to see the microwave in a perpetual state of submersion in the various substances of easy mac, ramen noodles or instant oatmeals. The spills sit long enough to get hard. The garbage can is also usually overflowing with beer cans and their carboard containers. You can usually find a piece of clothing covered in shit too. But don't stare at the trash too long. It could damage your cornea.
Today is mother's day. My dad says I need to come over and have some ice-cream cake. Sounds like a plan. No more dorm talk. It makes me sick to my stomache and eventually my bowels.
Oh yeah. Listen to Bane.
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